


Paris

by wrennotrobin



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, and i am french and i like the thought of them being fae so here we are, dont come at me, i have nothing against the french, its not exactly perfect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennotrobin/pseuds/wrennotrobin
Summary: This is essentially a retelling of Heir of Fire and up, but in a modern setting. Some of the events are based off of the lyrics to "Paris" by The Chainsmokers.Essentially, Celaena is sent to a French boarding school as an exchange student and her host in none other than Rowan Whitethorn.*the french are the fae in this universe.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Dorian Havilliard, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Chaol Westfall, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Emrys/Malakai (Throne of Glass), Sam Cortland & Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien, Sam Cortland/Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien
Comments: 64
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

It was way too cold for this. Standing in the street, looking like an absolute tourist, Celaena Sardothien was freezing. Her fingers were cold, her toes were cold and somehow the inside of her eyelids were cold. She wasn’t sure she’d be warm ever again. Gritting her teeth, she trudged forward, aware of every look shot her way. She knew what they saw; another sluttly American school girl ruining their perfect city. But what they didn’t know was that she was half french and spoke it better than most locals. 

Of course she did. 

She was Celaena Sardothien and she had a certain reputation to uphold, even an ocean away. But they didn’t know that. She was still another American student who was clueless about etiquette and everything they held near and dear. She supposed she should have called Chaol, or even Dorian to tell them she was here, but.. 

But she wasn’t ready to talk to either of them. Especially Chaol. She would never forgive him for carting her off to France in the middle of the school year. 

It was February. 

Celaena was supposed to be back home, turning down all Valentine’s Day dance invitations presented to her because she was dating the football star. But no. 

Instead, she was in freezing France, miles away from her friends and much closer to her extended family. Who she hated with a passion. Stupid boys. They had absolutely no idea what they had done. Chaol and Dorian had gone to the headmaster back at school and basically begged him to send her away. What a coincidence that this was the one palace she had been avoiding for all 18 years of her miserable life. Celaena had spent the better part of the plane ride trying to justify Chaol’s wish to make her leave.

There was the fact that they had just broken up, the fact that he was a bloody idiot, he was willing to do anything to kiss up to the corrupt school board members, and oh yeah. The fact that he sided with the school over Nehemia’s death. And the fact that she tried to kill him for it. Nehemia. Sweet, gorgeous, kind and brave Nehemia. She was Celaena’s best friend.

Was. 

Until she was raped and killed at a party thrown by a recently expelled student. Celaena had tracked him down and shattered every bone in his legs. She spent 2 weeks in juvie for that, but it was worth it. Partially because he was there as well and she had thoroughly scared him and everyone else. Well, she was only there for 3 days. Celaena was told that she was released for “good behavior” and “justifiable actions” which really meant that her “uncle” had stepped up his bribing games. But it wasn’t out of kindness. He just wanted her back so he could whip it into her about how idiotic it was. Her back still hurt. Maybe time away from Arobynn was good.d He would have to find another ringer while she was away. 

By this time, Celaena had reached the school which she was to attend for the next 4 months. The building in front of her was absolutely massive. Not to mention the fact that it was shining, even as everything around it was covered in old snow and god knows what else. Before she could knock, the door swung open. A boy in a tailored uniform was looking down at her as if she was the most despicable thing he had ever seen. Celaena didn’t even look that bad! Sure, after a day of travel she was a little worse for wear, but it wasn’t like she was wearing a sweatshirt and booty shorts. (she had considered it). 

Her cream sweater and black jeans weren’t fancy by any means but they were well made. And there was no mistaking her jewelry for anything less than exquisite. But compared to the boy in front of her, she looked like a vagrant. 

He glared at her, and ushered her in. What had she done? He looked over her once more with a surveying eye before shutting the door firmly behind them and disappeared down a long hallway. Well this was it. Either follow the scary cold hearted boy down the hall, or go back outside. 

He poked his head back into the entryway which was bigger than her New York apartment, and said with no hint of warmth in his voice, “Well, are you coming?”. 

Celaena rolled her eyes and followed him down the hall. Let’s hope that he was not her host. 

If so, this was going to be a long four months.


	2. Chapter 2

The boy led her down a long corridor and deposited her infront of what appeared to be a classroom door. He went inside, and grabbed another boy, around the same build as him but somehow even colder. His face looked like it had been carved from ice and he stared at her with even more disgust than his comrade. 

Celaena didn’t think it was possible for a human being to be that cold, but here were two of them, scowling down at her like she was 4 feet tall. She was only 6 inches shorter than them, maybe more. She turned to the first boy, but he was already gone. That left her with the boy who looked very inclined to dump her back on the streets. He probably could, and no one would care or notice. He grabbed her bags from where they were sitting in front of the classroom door, and practically threw them in her face. He glanced over his shoulder, and something like recognition flashed in his eyes. 

Ah. So he knew.

But if he said her name here, in front of all the students, her mother’s family would come racing back and then she could never go back to America, and never see Chaol, never see Dorian. So she stalked towards him, dragging her suitcase behind.

“Well met, my friend. Well met, indeed,” she purred. She had traded her passive expression for one she knew was definitely not warm. This ice boy threw an exasperated look, and continued walking down the hall where she had come from. He looked very familiar, and she wondered whether he played some sort of sport. Oh right, he was one of the top students at this school. He and the other cold boy from earlier were hand picked for extra courses by the headmistress of this school. How  _ convenient.  _

She had come to France, Paris specifically, for the sole purpose of learning what the headmistress knew. And here was one of her top students, right in front of her.

“What a lovely surprise,” she said. Honestly, her voice was a little sore from disuse and the amount of screaming following Nehemia’s death. She had gone silent for a long time after she died, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken in full sentences. 

It was usually, “yes”, “no”, “i don’t care”, and “i’m not hungry”. When was the last time she’d sounded to carefree, and pleasant? “I thought I was to meet you at the airport.” True, she had waited for an hour at the airport before realizing no one from school was coming to get her. It was slightly disappointing, but she didn't know what she expected. 

The boy’s harsh face didn’t even shift. She had no idea what he thought of her. He was so much harder to read than the other boy. Although he had been cold, the one in front of her was positively frozen. 

She took a good look at his face for the first time. His silvery blond hair just brushed below his collarbone. He had the most chiseled face she had ever seen, even on Dorian. It was like if you smashed Dorian and Chaol together, and increased the amount of muscle by 5 and gave that creation even more stunning features. His shoulders were impossibly broad, and he was massive. 

She supposed he might have been handsome had there been warmth in his pine green eyes. “Let’s go,” was all he said before heading down the hall. His legs were much longer than hers, and he certainly didn’t bother waiting for her to catch up. Damn this hall was long. 

As they rounded what had to be the 3 corner, an equally long hall stretched so far she couldn’t even see the end. They had been walking in silence for a few minutes and Celaena couldn’t take it. But she held her tongue, for the first time in her life. 

When they finally reached the end of the hall, the boy opened the door. Celaena was momentarily blinded as daylight hit her eyes. He led her down a set of steps and towards a pair of bikes. He strapped her bag to one bike, and his to another and hopped on. She mounted the bike, and made sure her sleeves covered her wrists. 

She didn’t need him seeing the shackle and other scars. It was absolutely none of his business, or anyone’s. Less known about her past, less to dangle over her. 

“I’ve met many cold hearted brooding students in my days, but you just might take the title. His head whipped toward her, and his silver was blowing in the wind behind him. 

“Oh hello.I think you know who I am, so I won’t bother with a ridiculous introduction. But before we ride off to the ends of the earth, I’d like to know who you are.” 

He surveyed their surroundings, and everyone watching them immediately found something more interesting to do. When he was sure that no one was too closely watching them, he said, “You’ve gathered enough about me at this point to have learned what you need to know.” He spoke in English, probably for her sake even though she was fluent in French. 

Which he didn’t know. But she could hear traces of the language of love in his voice, subtle as it was. But his voice was lovely, not what she expected at all. A soft rolling purr.

“Fair enough. But what am I to call you?” His jacket had shifted with the wind enough to reveal a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. 

“Rowan.”

“Well Rowan-” Oh, he did  _ not _ like her tone one bit. His eyes narrowed in annoyance, but she continued. “Dare I ask what where we’re going?” She was most definitely drunk. Or high. Probably both, given that she couldn’t remember what she did this morning. But this was a new level of out of her mind. Honestly, talking to someone who could probably kill her and not change his expression like that was definitely smart. But she had nothing to lose.

“I’m taking you to where you’ve been summoned.”

Even the way he talked was insulting, no matter what he was saying. But Celaena felt a pulse of fear go through her as they rode towards a stone building. She hadn’t known what to expect from the headmistress, hadn’t thought she would see her for a while. Not until she had built up enough courage to face her without trembling. 

But she didn’t say anything. Just talking this much had left her drained. She supposed she would have to get used to talking again. Rowan stared ahead, and Celaena got the feeling that he would be very happy to shove her off the bike into traffic. 

And he could do it, and continue on.

But surprisingly, he didn’t press on the fact that she had been “missing” for ten years. He just continued pedaling, forcing Celaena to keep up.

The stone building had a plaque on the side that read “Office of the Headmistress” Rowan parked his bike against the building, and she followed suit. He led her up a set of stairs, and into an office. And seated at a chair, peering down at a piece of paper was the headmistress. She set down the paper, and stared up at them with a pair of onyx eyes so impossibly dark. And she said the words that Celaena has been dreading for 10 years.

“Hello, Aelin Galathynius.”


	3. Chapter 3

Celaena felt the fear bubble up in her throat and started walking backwards out the door. Only to bang into a hard body. Rowan stood firmly behind her, and she realized that the door was shut. Her hands were shaking, and it was an effort to not rub over the burn scars on her legs. 

Breathe. Fear was stupid and it got you killed. Breathe. In, and out. “Aelin Galathynius is dead.” she said in a voice that was way too soft and quiet. She hadn’t spoken her name in over ten years, and had no plans to. 

The headmistress, Maeve, smiled and said, “Let’s not bother with lies.”

It wasn’t a lie. That girl was as good as dead. Drowned, in the river behind her house. Oh the irony. Aelin drowns, after escaping the house fire that killed her parents. Had she been anywhere else, she would have laughed out loud. 

But this office was way too small, especially with the brooding boy behind her. 

There wasn’t any time to gather her thoughts, calm herself and think. All ideas had rushed out of her head. It was empty. Nothing. None of the plans that had been meticulously thought over, just fear of the woman sitting in front of her. At a  _ desk _ . And a piece of shit desk too. From all of the legends of this school, and the woman in front of her, she should be on a throne of some sort with servants serving her at hand and foot. Her clothes weren’t over the top fancy, but there was no mistaking her for anything less than stunning. She had a graceful sort of poison to her words and smiled, and it was like looking a snake in the face.

And the snake was staring down at her. Celaena made to leave, but Rowan remained a very solid wall between her and the door. She wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

She dipped into a curtsy, as some thoughts came back to her. She could feel Rowan shaking with the effort of trying not to laugh at her. 

Maeve didn’t even try to hide her amusement. She stood, and walked out from behind the desk, and tipped her chin up. Celaena tried not to flinch as she ran a sharp manicured nail down her cheek. 

“I suppose, with a proper shower you’ll look a great deal like your mother.”

Well, Maeve certainly wasn’t going to bother with pleasantries. She was going straight for thee kill. But Celaena could deal with this. She had had insults hurled at her for 10 years, and this was no different. So she slid a smirk on her face and said, “Had I known who I was meeting, I would have begged my escort for a chance to change and freshen up.”

She could feel Rowan’s glare on the back of her neck, and fought to keep from smiling. Celaena didn’t feel bad at all for throwing him under the bus.

Maeva nodded at Rowan as she sat down at the desk once again. “You must be wondering why I asked Rowan to bring you here. He is my nephew, of sorts and distantly related to you.”

Nehemia. Only for her would Celaena hold her tongue. 

Maeve was still talking, and Celana tried to ignore the roaring in her head as she held back retort after retort. “I have been waiting a long time to meet you. Your parents broke their promise, you know. After they scurried away from France, your mother promised to let me see you after you were born. I offered her a spot here, at my school. But they refused to even let me see you.”

Celaena tried to keep her face neutral. If her sweet, kind and caring mother had broken a promise to her own sister, then there must have been a good reason. 

“But now you are here, in my school after all. And not the little girl I thought you to be. A grown woman, with many stories to tell. It has been hard to keep up with you throughout the years, but I have my sources. Maybe you’ll confirm them for me. Ooooh. Like the one source I had that told me that a certain someone with Ashryver eyes was last spotted being hauled towards the renowned Gu-”

“Enough.” Celaena said sharply, before darring a glance at Rowan. He was intensely looking at Maeve, like this was the first he had heard of the Guild and her. Interesting. “I know my own story well enough.” She shot Rowan a glare that told him to mind his own business. She didn’t need him knowing that part of her. She didn’t need his pity.

“And of your inheritance?”

“I haven’t been able to access them.” That much was true. Everyone believed that Aelin Galathynius had perished and the Ashryver-Galathynius fortune and Empire stood untouched.

“Because you don’t have the training too?” Maeve pestered. Of course she didn’t. Celaena was in no way ready to run an empire, or even walk into an inheritance. She was 18, and a classic carefree young adult. The banker would probably laugh in her face at her request. But Maeve had the resources to turn her into someone who could take back her bloodright and run the world if she wanted. That was why she had come. And as much as she hated to, she admitted, “Yes.”

Maeve smiled, knowing she had one. Knowing she had gotten her to admit that she needed Maeve’s assistance. “I will tell you what I know once you have been brought up to my standards.” She said with a dismissive nod. And that was that. She turned back to her papers, and gestures for them to leave.

But Celaena wasn’t ready to leave. “What do you mean,  _ brought up to your standards? _ ”

Rowan made a little sound of anger at the tone of her voice. Maeve looked up at her as if she were a little lost child and said, “I have a very high standard of those I instruct. You will learn what is common knowledge from the other teachers at this school, and once Rowan senses that you are up to my standards, he will let me know. He will also be your host, so try not to kill each other, as entertaining that would be for all of us. You may go now.”

And that was that. 

Rowan was dragging her out of the office, and into the hall. She shoved him off and was about to go raging back into that bitch’s office and demand answers, but she collided with the wall as Rowan tripped her. Her face was aching, and need for approval or not, she was going to murder this boy. Rowan still had absolutely nothing showing on his face. Ugh, she wanted to punch him right between those perfect green eyes. Celaena rushed at him with 3 weeks of anger and frustration. Her arm was drawn back, but Rowan’s fist collided with her lip before she could land the punch. OH that was it. He was dead. Dead. Screw Maeve. Celaena made to punch him, but he caught her wrist and threw it down, pinning it behind her back. She started squirming, trying every move she knew to shake him off, but she was too angry to think straight and he was too strong. She eventually dislodged his grip by slicing her nail across his thumb which earned another smack across the face. 

When he finally let her go, she whirled, already trying to get to him. But Rowan was already walking down the step to where they had parked the bikes. He went to hers and opened it up, looking for something. 

“What the hell are you looking for?” Celaena was beyond pissed at that point, and having a stranger dig through her bags was not helping with her anger.

“Give me anything you could possibly use to kill me.” Rowan said, the annoyance very clear in his voice.

“Why, and no.” She certainly wasn’t giving him anything of hers.

Rowan pulled out 3 daggers, and 4 particularly wicked looking hair pins. Where in the world did he find those? They had been in her  _ underwear _ for the specific reason of no one finding them.

“Give them back!” She made to grab them but Rowan swatted her away, and dumped them into his bag.

“You will have absolutely no need for them at this school, and I’ll give them back to you after you leave. Tomorrow morning, I will walk you down to the kitchens. As part of your duty to this school, and a thank you for letting you stay, you will help with the school meals. Your duty starts at 4. And then you’re with me for the rest of the day.” He said the last part as if this was going to be the most painful 4 months of his life. She shared the sentiment.

“So part of my training includes being a scullery maid?”   
“Part of it.” Rowan mounted his bike but she could see the words he said with a sinister smile on his face:  _ And I’m going to savor every damn second of it. _

“For an old bastard you sure haven’t bothered learning any manners.” Never mind the fact that he couldn’t be much older than her. But he acted as if she were some child he had to babysit.

“First of all, I’m only twenty three, and second why should I waste flattery on a child who’s already in love with herself.”

“We’re related, you know.”

A scoff at that. “We’ve as much blood in common as I do with the stray cat we just passed.”

Celaena felt her blood boil but refrained from doing something even more stupid than what she had already done. 

Rowan led her to a shining building, which read “Doranelle Dorms” on the awning, and up a flight of stairs. They went past the dining hall, and into an elevator, which stopped on the 8th floor. Rowan opened a door at the end of the hall, and gestured inside. Then he said, “Be ready at dawn.” and promptly shut the door in her face. 

Celaena muttered a string of a few choice words that would have made her parents roll over in her grave.    
“I heard that! And don’t think I’m going to make you pay for it tomorrow!” 

She stuck her tongue out at the door, and began un-packing. She hadn’t brought much compared to her wardrobe back home, but there was a good variety of clothes here.

Celaena went over to the window wall, and through the curtains open wide. She sat on the floor, peering at the city in front of her soaking up the sun.

She must have drifted off to sleep, because it was nearly 8 when she awoke. Her stomach gave a rumble of hunger, but getting food meant meeting people, and meeting people meant explaining why she was here and that was too much to deal with. She settled on a protein bar from the box she had brought with her, and dived into bed. Celaena fell asleep to the sounds of the city, and wondered what it would be like to live in a world where no one knew who she was.

A world where she was no one at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Celaena woke the next morning to a pounding in her head that had nothing to do with the absurdly loud banging on her door. She rolled out of bed, and went to open the door. Rowan was standing in front of her with a pile of clothing with a small tin on top. He dumped the bundle in her arms, then promptly walked away..

“Be ready in 30 minutes.” he said over his shoulder.

Celaena stuck her tongue out at him. She looked down at the mass of fabric in her arms. A uniform. With a tin that smelled vaguely of mint and rosemary. She opened it, and a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Written in tight, precise handwriting was a note, which she guessed was from Rowan.

_ You deserved it. Maeve sends her wishes for a speedy recovery. _

Celaena bit her lip to keep from laughing at the lecture Rowan must have endured and how much it must have rubbed him the wrong way to have to bring her this, then winced when she realized what the salve was for. The nasty split lip that he gave her. She gingerly applied some of it, and felt the coolness of the mint begin to soften the sting.

There was a bathroom at the end of the hall. She took a quick, cold shower and put on the clothes that Rowan had given her. Weren’t the french, especially this fancy boarding school, supposed to be rich? They really couldn't spare money to invest in heated showers. Her teeth were chattering as she tugged on the black ballet flats that she had brought. She was very thankful for the sweater that came with the uniform because apparently there was no heating in her room. Her hair was soaking wet, which did nothing to improve her already pissy mood. She honestly didn’t feel like finding a hair dryer, so she settled for braiding her long golden hair into two dutch braids over her shoulders. The uniform fit well enough, surprisingly and she applied a layer of lipgloss and a light dusting of blush to give her cheeks some color. But when Celaena looked in the mirror, that was another thing.

Her cheeks had hollowed out, and her cheekbones looked like they were sharp enough to cut someone. Her eyes were a dull teal, that spark of golden flame noticeably absent. And she had lost weight. The shirt and sweater hung loose on her, and when she lifted her shirt, she could count all of her ribs. She wore a silent vow to never go down that specific road again. After, and even before Nehemia had died she had been in a very bad place. Well she still was. But she had stopped eating, and started running. She had started hating what she saw on the scale and in the mirror, even if she was in perfectly good shape. Counting calories, multiple runs a day, and purging. The latter only happened once before Nehemia found her and held her as she cried. Nehemia had been the light in the life of so many damn people, and then Grave had to fucking murder her. Everything was a reminder of Nehemia those first few weeks. All food had no flavor, and she just stopped eating. She stopped caring. And then she found Grave and was very close to ripping his throat out. She would one day. Take down every single god-damned bastard who had scarred her and others like her. And when that time came, she’d do it slowly and savor every fucking second of it.

But first she needed to get back to her former glory. She would eat. A lot. And run again, and workout. She needed to be strong so she could finish what Nehemia had started.

For the second time in less than 45 minutes, Rowan was pounding on the door. She grabbed her backpack, did one last mirror check and stumbled out the door. The boy in front of her was wearing the same cold expression that he always wore, and kept looking back at her strangely. After the first 12 times, Celaena finally broke the silence.

“What?”

“Why the hell are you wearing those shoes?” Of course it was her shoes. She had purposely avoided the clunky boots that had been deposited at her doorstep.

“Because they’re comfy. And they look good. And while we’re on the subject of clothing, would it kill you to give me a pair of pants?” Indeed, Celaena had spent many of those thirty minutes this morning very very mad at the fact that it was freezing outside and she was in a skirt. A skirt, in February in France. It was like Rowan wanted to make her suffer. Then again he was a cold hearted bastard, and most definitely did want her to suffer.

“What’s wrong with the skirt?” Well that settled it. Either he was just clueless, or was purposely playing dumb to anatagonize her.

“It’s freezing in the morning, and this thing offers close to no warmth. Excuse me if I don’t particularly want to die of hypothermia in a foregin country.”   
“Toughen up.” Nope. Not clueless. Just a cold hearted bastard then.

Celaena scowled in his direction and remained silent for the rest of the journey down to the kitchens.

Thank god it was warmer in there. The furnace and many stoves kept everything toasty warm, and perhaps her hair would have time to dry. The room was mercifully empty save for a boy around her age and an older man tending to a pile of dough. Rowan crossed the room and gestured to her.

“Your new scullery maid for the morning shift. After that, I have her for the rest of the day for classes.” It was slightly comforting to know that his lack of greeting wasn’t personal. She glanced at Rowan when he didn’t introduce her. 

He shrugged in response and leaned up against the hearth, hands in his pockets. It was getting easier to read him, and she assumed he didn’t care what name she gave them. 

“Elentiya,” she said. “My name is Elentiya.” Her test felt tight and she barely managed to choke out the words.

Thankfully, Rowan didn’t scoff at the name. She would have Hansel and Greteled him and shoved him into the fire had he laughed at the name Nehemia had given her. 

The old man walked towards her, wiping excess flour on his apron. He bowed to Rowan, and Rowan stiffened almost imperceptibly at that. “So good of you to find us help.” He turned his gaze to Celaena and looked her over with chestnut-brown eyes.

“Ever work in a kitchen?”

Even with all the work she had done, she had to say no. She had waited tables before, and said as much.

“Well, I hope you’re a fast learner and quick on your feet.”

“I’ll do my best.” Rowan must have deemed that a good enough answer because he dipped his head in farewell to the man and didn’t bother with anything to her. He grabbed his bag from the stool next to the door and walked silently up the set of stairs they had come down. Every movement was quick and precise and laced with power. He probably could have shattered her jaw last night, but he had been holding back. He most definitely could have killed her and she couldn’t tell if she was glad he didn’t. 

“I’m Emrys,” said the old man, then scurried over to pull two loaves of bread from the oven. Introduction over. Good. 

“And this is Luca.” The boy in the corner waved at her with a grin stretched over his face. He looked to be a year or so younger, and hadn’t quite filled out his frame. He had a mop of tawny curls that looked like they couldn’t be tamed by any means. He radiated happiness, and his energy was infectious. Why couldn’t someone like him be her exchange host?

“You and him will be sharing a lot of scullery work, I’m afraid.” Emrys said, before going back to a pot on the stove. 

“Oh it's absolutely miserable,” Luca chirped, sniffing loudly at the reek of the onions he was chopping. His eyes were slightly watery as he said, “but you’ll get used to it. Though maybe not the waking up before the sun part.” Emrys shot the young man a glare and Luca quickly amended, “At least the company’s good.”

Celaena offered him a tight smile, and surveyed the kitchen. It was big, and there were many stoves and ovens with many dishes cooking in and on them Luca was standing at a wooden table laden with an assortment of vegetables. She swept another glance over the room, and caught Emrys staring at her hands. So she held them out for all to see. “Already mangled and ruined so you won’t catch me crying over a broken nail.”

“Mother above. What happened?” She could see Emrys putting it all together, her accent, the split lip, and the darkness that loomed in her eyes.

“America will do that to a person.” There was a clattering sound as Luca dropped his knife, but she kept her eyes on Emrys. “Give me whatever work you wish. Anything and everything.”

She wanted the work and the blisters and calluses. Let Rowan think she was entitled and an American slut. She needed the sore muscles and a worn out brain so that she would have dreamless nights.

She could have sworn pity flashed in Emrys’ eyes, and she almost snapped at him. But this wasn’t Rowan, he seemed like a kind person. “Just finish up the onions. Luca take the bread. I have to start the casserole.”

Celaena took up Luca’s recently vacated spot at the table, and began furiously chopping onions. It was surprisingly easy. Maybe dagger and weapon skills were good for things other than killing. Arobynn would kill her for thinking like this, for wasting his training on  _ scullery work _ . The thought was reassuring in a way. 

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Breakfast was another level of insanity. 

When the sun finally rose, after what seemed like an eternity of darkness the kitchens became more and more crowded as students and teachers alike descended to assist with the food. There were no cooks, or servants, save for Emrys, so breakfast was brought up by whoever decided they wanted to help. People rushed in and out carrying trays of food that smelled so damn good. Emrys was an excellent cook, and apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Everyone seemed in a rush to get the food up and eat it, and Celaena wasn’t going to argue with that. She was introduced to a few other people, but most didn’t look in her direction. She didn’t mind.

Honestly, it was kind of refreshing to not be surrounded by people who wanted to know everything about her life. No squad of followers wanting to know her opinions on every little thing, and no Arobynn wanting to know everything about her life, so he could control it.

Celaena had a feeling that Rowan wouldn’t reveal her true name, only because he hated talking to people more than she did. She was just another exchange student, chopping vegetables and cleaning dishes in the kitchen.

Her knife wasn’t even remotely sharp, which made it an absolute nightmare when it came to chopping the assortment of vegetables placed in front of her. Her slices were almost perfect, not that anyone noticed or complemented her on them. They just dumped them in a pot or pan and told her to start on something else. 

And then absolute silence. The kitchens were empty again except for Luca and Emrys. Everyone had made their way upstairs and laughter and chatter echoed through the long stairwell. Celaena was absolutely dead tired, and her grumbling stomach wasn’t helping much. She looked longingly at the food that had been left on one of the tables, and caught Luca staring at her. 

“Go ahead,” he said with a smile on his face before helping Emrys haul and an astonishingly large cauldron toward one of the even larger sinks. Not surprisingly, Luca had managed to have a conversation with every single person who had come down, whether they were a student or teacher. He knew all of them. “You’ll be at those dishes for a while, so might as well eat now.” He gestured towards the table.

So Celaena grabbed a plate from the stack nearby, and filled it with eggs and potatoes, and a few pieces of Emrys’ bread. She poured herself a large cup of tea, and began eating.

And oh my fucking god the food was good. The eggs were probably the best she had ever had, and Emrys worked wonders with bread. It had to have been less than 3 minutes, and she had already devoured 2 pieces of toast with eggs, and about ½ a pund of potatoes. Everything was so damn good, that she couldn’t help herself. Everything was so good, not lavish like some of the restaurants in New York, but good. The kind of food that defines comfort food. Her tea cup lay to the side, as she had spotted milk and had downed a glass. It was the best thing she had ever tasted. She normally didn’t drink milk, or eat breakfast with the juice bar built into her apartment building, but she felt like she could drink 5 gallons of this stuff and never tire of it. Celaena looked up and saw Emrys and Luca gaping at her from where they stood near one of the now clean stoves. 

“Dear lord, “ Emrys said, moving to sit across from her. “When was the last time you ate?”

Well the power bar she’d had last night didn’t count, and she had been having liquid dinners more frequently of late, so maybe a week?

Besides, if she was going to have to deal with Rowan all day long in school, then she needed her energy. And then she had to learn what Maeve knew, and fulfill her promise to Nehemia. Suddenly not very hungry, she set down her fork and cup, “Sorry.”

“Oh eat all you like! There’s nothing more satisfying for a cook than to see people enjoy his food.” Emrys sat down in front of her and began to serve himself. He looked so happy with her, and Luca seemed to enjoy her company.

How would they react if they knew what Arobynn made her do? How would they react when they knew how much blood she had spilled, the people she hadn’t been able to save? How she’d shattered Grave’s legs, and made him feel an ounce of pain for what he had done to Nehemia? The horrified look on Chaol’s face flashed in her mind, his horror as she shot Archer Finn through the head. 

Luca and Emrys were chatting quietly, and didn’t ask any questions. Good. The less they knew, the better. They were so at ease with each other, talking about what to make for dinner, and what subjects Luca needed to catch up in. A family in their own way.

Pure, innocent souls that hadn’t seen the worst the human race had to offer. They hadn’t seen a fraction of the horrors America had shown her from the moment they burned her family alive. She didn’t know their stories, but there was still light and life in their eyes, so unlike the darkness in Dorian and Chaol’s eyes. Even her two best friends who knew her so damn well had nothing on her grotesque history. 

_ Do not let that light go out. _ Nehemia had seen the shadows in her eyes, had known what she had done and hadn’t backed away from it. She had embraced it and taught Celaena how to bring the light out of the darkness. God, she missed her so damn much. 

Emrys and Luca were a complete mystery to her. She’d never met anyone who hadn’t been corrupted by the lies of the government and seen the unspeakable crimes committed in front of them. They had freedom, they had the freedom to not worry about those kinds of things.

Luca cleared his throat, breaking her free of the abyss that threatened to swallow her whole.

“You must be very lucky, or very unlucky to have Rowan as your host here.” Damned was more like it. But she only said, “What do you know of him?”

A glance between the two of them. 

“Rowan had been here the longest of any student here. Maeve, the headmistress, is a distant relative of his, and he is part of her elite circle of students. Maeve has them do all of her dirty work, no matter how awful or illegal. She always finds a way to clear their names, him and the 5 others in his group.”

“Are they all students?”

“Students, and former students. The very best of the best. I’d say he’s very skilled with whatever Maeve has him do, and no one knows what exactly that is. All that is known is that he’s good at it. Very good.”

“And mean as an adder.” Luca grumbled. Celaena held back her smile. So she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Apparently it wasn’t personal, when Luca thought he was mean. Luca, who liked everyone.

“I’d mind your mouth,” said Emrys, glancing warrily at the door as if Rowan might be lurking in the shadows ready to pounce. “And I’ll admit that you’re in for a rough few months.”

Celaena only said, “I can handle him.”

“No one knows what his tattoo says, it's a mixture of French, Latin, and some other language. Some say it’s a list of people he’s killed.” Luca said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Hush.” said Emrys.

Celaena racked her brain for a tattoo, and remembered it peeking out from under his sleeves.

“It’s Italian.”

“What?” Luca’s confusion was very clear.

“Italian. That’s the other language in his tattoo.” Celaena said, with a small grin. Well, now she just had to get him naked to read the tattoo. That would be the hard part. 

Luca looked like he was about to ask how the hell she knew Italian, French and Latin, but Emrys said softly, after noting her scarred hands and wrists, “Let her run her own course.” 

Celaena cleared her plate, and began scrubbing at the massive cauldron. The running water drowned out all of her thoughts, and yet another of Arobynn’s skills came through: Cleaning dishes was no different then cleaning her assortment of weapons. Eventually, the water became distant background noise and she fell into a rhythm. Her hands were turning pruny under the hot water, and her thoughts came buzzing back into her brain with the force of a freight train. 

Celaena began spiraling down into the dark despair that had always been there, lurking in the shadows. But this time, Nehemia wasn’t there to lift her up.

And the horrible realization dawned on her: She could not remember what it was like to be free.


	6. Chapter 6

It was only 9 o’clock and Celaena was already exhausted. Her muscles ached from scrubbing dishes, and clearing plates. Her fingers were permanently pruney, and stiff and her mood was getting no better when she saw Rowan leaning against the stairwell wall, a very annoyed look clearly written in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

He turned to go up the stairs, leaving Celaena no chance but to tug on her blazer, grab her bag and follow. Although he was as silent as before, she had the vague sense that he was somewhat disappointed that she wasn’t whining and complaining about her nails and all the hard work. He was going to have to try much harder to get her to complain. As she turned to say her goodbyes to Luca and Emrys, Luca drew a line across his neck and mouthed  _ good luck. _ Emrys smacked his hand with a towel.

Rowan led her out of the building and across a small courtyard to yet another large building. They walked into a room, about half full of people and he pointed at a set of desks in the left rear of the room. She scowled at him and stalked over to where he pointed. There was a boy already sitting there, and he gave her a grin and flipped off Rowan which made her instantly like him. Rowan rolled his eyes, and gave him an equally vulgar gesture. The boy kept his shit eating grin and practically tackled Rowan to the ground. Celaena stepped out of the way, and watched as Rowan rolled his eyes yet again and sat down at a desk next to her. 

Celaena looked at the boy to her left, and studied him. His blond hair was a few shades darker than hers, but a great deal shorter. His golden skin suggested that he spent a great deal of time outside darkening the already dark skin. He was gorgeous. 

The blond boy cocked his head to one side and extended a hand. “I’m Fenrys,” he said. Celaena took his hand, and found that it was callused in the same manner as hers. Interesting. Fenrys turned his attention to Rowan. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had gotten such an awesome exchange student?” 

Celaena smirked at him and replied, “This brooding idiot would use any word but awesome to describe me.”

Fenrys reached across her desk to sock Rowan in the arm. No reaction from Rowan. 

“Why’d Maeve give her to you instead of someone fun, like me?”   
“Because if you were in charge of training her, you two would be getting drunk and high every night and partying at every club in France.” Rowan shot back.

“Oh, a party princess?” Fenrys looked at her with a new found interest. “Then you and I are going to be very good friends.”

“You’re only reinforcing my point.” Rowan said with annoyance written clear as day in his eyes. “This one,” he said, jerking his thumb at Celaena, “shares your lack of etiquette and manners Fen.”

Celaena was about to argue, but a teacher stepped to the front of the class. The large room instantly quieted, and Celaena looked around for the first time since entering. 

There had to be 200 students in the room, and a great deal of the desks were empty. They were at the very back of the room with an excellent view of the projection behind the teacher. She looked to her left and found Fenrys still chatting with whoever was sitting next to him. On her right, Rowan had pulled out a notebook and pen and was taking notes. 

He had remarkably good handwriting. She reached down to the bag at her feet and grabbed one of the notebooks she had brought with her. 

And as the slideshow began, Celaena let herself get lost in the world of learning.

She had always loved school, and was always very good at it. But this teacher wasn’t like some of the professors back in New York. He was animated, and called on people regardless if they were raising their hand or not. Celaena herself had thrown up her hand multiple times, and of course had gotten the answer correct. She looked to her right to gauge Rowan’t reaction, but he was only taking notes, and occasionally raising his hand to ask questions. She looked down at her notebook. It was filled with notes, but she had caught Dorian and Chaol, especially the former, copying her notes a few times so she had to improvise. It was a mix of Italian, and German. Being fluent in many languages was one of her more proud character traits, and it came in handy repeatedly throughout her life. 

The owner of the best pasta shop in Little Italy knew her by name, and often had her taste test dishes. All because she spoke her language and knew about her culture. Celaena had found that knowing and acknowledging other cultures and histories made her life and her work for Arobynn much easier. Once she picked up that she could sweet talk and flirt her way into getting answers because the men she required them from were pedophiles, she no longer had to go through the long process of knocking them unconscious, dragging their body to a warehouse, tying them up, and torturing them for information. She simply had to wear a short dress with a low neckline, and act innocent. 

Honestly she found it funny that the men Arobynn had her interrogate were so gullible. The more she knew about their history, the quicker the jobs were. So she had devoted life to devouring books and learning as much as she could. And being here was no different. She would learn all she could from these professors, learn what she needed from Maeve, then go back home.

She caught Rowan staring at her notes, with something like confusion on his face. She poked his shoulder, and he glared at her. 

“Why do you write in different languages?” He whispered.

“Because I have friends that like to cheat off of me.” Celaena hissed back through her teeth.

“You have friends?”

“Of course I do. You would know that if you had spoken more-”

He cut her off. “Shut up. I need to pay attention, and I can’t do that with you talking my ear off.”

Celaena glared at him with such intensity she could have sworn that sparks zapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t even glance at her. 

So she popped the cap off a permanent marker and wrote in all capital letter on a piece of paper  _ VAFFANCULO _

She slid the paper on his desk, and went back to listening to the lecture on Marine Life restoration. It was fascinating. She ignored Rowan for the rest of the 2 hour class, even as he slapped her with his notebook, and couldn't help the little smile that crept onto her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vaffanculo is Italian for fuck you, or go fuck yourself. Something along those lines


	7. Chapter 7

“Class dismissed!”

The bell rang shortly after, and the noise of people chatting and packing up thoroughly drowned out Rowan. But Celaena could still hear him, so she ignored him and talked with Fenrys instead. Fenrys was happy to spill all of the information required to thoroughly piss Rowan off. Maybe the exchange program wouldn’t be so bad.

She walked out of the classroom with Fenrys, after introducing herself to the professor and giving her profound thanks. Celaena made to follow Fenrys to lunch, but a strong hand gripped her elbow and yanked her in the other direction. He pulled her out of the group of buildings and into a meadow just behind the dorms. He continued dragging her until they were in the center of it, far from all eyes.

Celaena swore at the boy sitting next to her, then put her hands on her hips and plastered a smile on her face that she knew drove boys insane.

“Wipe the smarmy lying smile off your face.” Rowan snarled. Ooooh. Mission Accomplished. Rowan was thoroughly pissed at her.

Celaena kept her smarmy lying smile and said, “I think not. Besides I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Here’s your first lesson girl. Cut the bullshit. I don’t feel like dealing with it and I’m probably the only one that doesn’t give a damn about how angry and viscous and awful you are underneath.”

“I don’t think you particularly want to see how angry and vicious and awful I am underneath.”

The thought of the shattered control sent a wave of nausea rolling through her.

“Go ahead and be as nasty as you want Princess because I’ve been ten times as nasty for ten times longer”

She didn’t let it out. Celaena felt the insults that she wanted to hurl at him, the outburst that had left her without friends growing up. Too wild, too unpredictable. Rowan had no idea what lurked underneath. She kept the emotions and explosions from coming forward but couldn’t hide her expression. Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she felt the golden core of her eyes burn bright. 

Rowan smiled grimly as he saw the fire rage up to the surface.

“Better. Now let it out. Scream, be as vicious as you can.” 

As if it was that easy. The amount of effort it took from leaping at him and ripping his eyes out sent tremors through her body. Arobynn had always made her fear what would happen if she mastered her fear. He used it as the fire that drove her fights. He made her fear the control that came with it.

“It’s not something I can control.”

“If I wanted excuses I would have asked for them. Now please for the love of god shut up and let it out.”

She had never lost control since everything was taken from her. Never let anyone, except for that one night with Chaol and Dorain. She had learned to hate the wicked and cruel side of her, and Arobynn had only fueled that fear.

“I hope you brought snacks because if my lesson for today depends on me releasing all of my anger, and letting go then we’re going to be here for a long long time.”

He massaged his forehead like talking to her for 3 minutes had given him a headache. “ you’re really going to make me enjoy training you aren’t you?”

“I’ve already participated in a dozen different versions of the master disciple training saga as well so why don’t we cut that bullshit too?”

She could feel the anger boiling up and could feel her hands vibrating at her sides. This was usually when Arobynn dumped her in the fighting pit and gave her some idiot to beat up.

“Shut your smart ass mouth and master your anger, and just let it go.”

She shuddered as her body begged to run, to hit something to get the energy and anger out out out.

“No.”

And then Rowan attacked. 

She had been watching him this entire time, contemplating which side he preferred, his fighters tells. So she dodged his first punch, and felt her blood sing for more more more as the energy and insults kept coming up faster and faster. Celaena shoved them down.

But that made her sloppy. 

And she didn’t even register the second fist until it was connecting with her gut and her legs were swept from out under her. She was falling and twisted to the side away from him but not fast enough to avoid hitting her head on a rock. And then Rowan's thighs were digging into her ribs and his hands were on her wrists pinning her to the ground. She was out of breath, had absolutely no muscle on her and had lost so much weight from not eating that she couldn’t move or even twist. He had her pinned in a position often referred to by her friends as the calming hold. Celaena recognizes that he was indeed pressing on pressure points in her sides and wrists that rendered moving absolutely impossible. Normally this would lead to the person in the hold to relax once they realized they couldn’t do anything. But not her. No it only pissed her off more. Celaena let out a low joyless laugh as Rowan said quietly, “Relax. Don’t be afraid of the anger. Let it calm you.”

"Nice try." She lifted her head off the grass and peered down at him. "You think restricting my movements will make me let go and shake it off. You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to make me forget what you said."

He said nothing. Of course he did. To show her how easy it was to be quiet and let insults and taunts slide off your back. She put her head back down on the rock. Stars bobbed in and out of her peripheral vision. Well that was going to be a bad lump tomorrow.

“Here’s an idea. I’m rich as hell. How about we pretend to do this training thing for a week or two then you tell Maeve I’m ready for her training and information then I give you all the money you want? 

He brought his head so close to her ear that she shuddered as the breath from his words brushed up against it. “Here’s an idea,” he growled. “ I don’t know what the hell you’ve been doing for ten years, other than flouncing around and getting drunk and high. But I think you’re used to getting your way. I think you have no control over yourself. No control, and no discipline-not the kind that counts, deep down. You are a child and a spoiled one at that. And,” he said, he voice lethally quiet, “you are a coward.”

Had he not been sitting on her chest and pressing against pressure points that left her with a useless body, she would have clawed his face off. Like what she did to Chaol, but to his entire face. She tried and failed to get her hands to move trying every move she’d learned to try to dislodge him. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that she was trying to move. 

“Don’t like that word?” He learned even closer, his face spread a cruel smile. “Coward. You’re a coward who has run for ten years while innocent people were burned and butchered and—“

She stopped hearing him. She just stopped.

She was drowning again. Like running into Nehemia’s bedroom hours too late and finding that beautiful body of hers mutilated on the bed. 

She went limp under Rowan’s body, staring blankly at the clouds above. Waiting. Just waiting for him to finish the words she couldn’t hear, waiting for a blow that she was all too familiar with and was fairly certain she wouldn’t feel. Not anymore. She had stopped feeling most things long ago. 

“Get up,” he said suddenly, lifting his weight from her chest. “GET UP”

Get up. Chaos had said that to her once, in a world long ago when pain and fear and grief had shoved her over an edge. But the edge she had gone over the night Nehemia had stopped breathing, the night she’d gutted Archer for his assistance with that, the night Chaol had learned the horrible truth. Chaol had helped shove her over that edge with his horrified look and disgust. She was still falling down. There was no getting up, no coming back from this, because there was no bottom to hit. 

Then there were powerful, rough hands under her shoulders, hauling her up from the ground. If he would only move those hands to her neck and snap it. Let it be over with. 

“Pathetic. Spineless and pathetic.” Rowan spat the words with such revulsion as he shoved her away from him.

For Nehemia she had to try, had to try. 

But when she reached into the hole in her chest where the monster swelled and rumbled, all she found was dust and cobwebs. 

  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Apparently Rowan had expected more from her, which wasn’t a surprise as even she had expected more from herself, because he was thoroughly pissed. Like even broodier than usual. He didn’t even bother telling her where they were headed, just occasionally turning back and grunting at her to keep up. They finally stopped in the middle of what appeared to be the worst part of Paris. The brothels, the low end clubs and bars, the fighting arenas. Celaena caught once glimpse at the characters milling around in the shadows and in the streets and decided she wanted absolutely no part of what this district of the city. But Rowan only beckoned her forward with a smirk on his face that didn’t quite reach his empty eyes. 

“I had planned to make you walk all through here once you had mastered at least a little bit of self control, but since you are so set on the fact that you know everything you need, then by all means go ahead. I’ll be at the end of the block, just a half mile ahead.”

She started to protest but shut her mouth when she realized she was only proving his point. Celaena reached into her jacket pocket to pull out her phone to call a cab or something but realized that the shiny object that Rowan was holding was her phone. “Come and get it princess!” And then he was gone. Damn he was fast. She supposed she should start walking if she wanted to be out of here before it got dark. It was going to be easy enough, she’d dealt with obnoxious bullies and people cat calling her for years. She didn’t need some easy way out, her wits and brains were enough. She’d been through much worse and no matter what Rowan had in store, it couldn’t be worse than her history.

Celaena set off walking down the street with new found confidence. She squared her shoulders and threw her head back. She had been trained by the greatest assassin in the world, the slums of Paris couldn’t touch.

All was fine for the first 2 blocks. There were the cat calls, the requests to bed them, the straight up insults, but none to harrowing. Did Rowan really underestimate her this god damned much? She got to where she could see him at the end of the street and made to flip him off before someone pulled her into a dark set of alleys. Celaena tried to turn around, and head back into the Main Street, but found her path blocked as if it had never been there. Ehh. She’d just have to take this way. But Celaena instantly regretted it as the shadows of this alley were so dark she couldn’t tell who or what lurked in them. She rounded a corner and walked straight into a patch of shadows so dark no light reached them. A shudder went down her spine as she felt someone brush her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “We’ve been waiting for you.” Celaena whirled trying to distinguish where they had gone, but nothing remained except black. She stumbled over a mound on the ground and fought her gag as she realized it was a body. Trying back, she saw someone from the shadows take a match and light it on fire. The overwhelming smell of burning flesh reached her nose and she was back in her parent’s bedroom, trying desperately to get them to move before the flames consumed them whole. She later realized the the liquid on her skin wasn’t rain from the night, it hadn’t rained in days. Her parents, their throats slit completely in aware of the daughter that was still waiting for her mother to say, “ Good morning fireheart.” That stupid nickname. The irony of how they and the rest of her family that mattered perished. First, slaughtered. Then burned to hide all evidence. Celaena blinked and the smell of lotus blossoms was up in her face, and she was in a different bedroom. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” She kept repeating that phrase over and over as Nehemia’s broken body was in front of her and there was nothing she could do. Celaena walked backward and she was in the Guild and Arobynnn was there, belt in hand and her back was bleeding like never before. And then he was gone, replaced by Sam, yet another one she had been too late to save. She vomited over the cobblestones and shrank into a corner and screamed. She had failed all those who mattered and they were all dead dead dead and never coming back. She was crying and still screaming. Celaena rose to her feet only to see a line of all those who she had failed and just dropped to the ground unconscious.

Hell, because she was certain that was where she was headed, looked an awful lot like a parking lot. Celaena blinked as she sat up and looked around and down at herself. She was covered in vomit and oh lord she had wet herself. In front of Rowan. But all embarrassment faded back when she realized why she had. “Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. No self control, no discipline of any sorts. I asked you to walk through a section of a city, not throw the world’s largest temper tantrum.” Rowan was sitting on a curb a few feet away and glaring at her as he went on about how she was a failure. 

But Celaena didn’t hear any of his words as the images of her parents of Sam and Nehemia flashed in her brain. She stood up and stormed over to him, anger pulsing in her veins. Rowan looked at her with such hate that she wanted to smack him so hard that he reconsidered everything he had ever done. But as she made to do anything, she saw the triumph in his face. If she acted out, then she was only further proving his point. So she settled for a battle of words instead. “I am going to kill you!” she said, getting right up in his face. Which was honestly not the smartest decision, but she was past making smart decisions. “How dare you make me-” She stuck an accusatory finger up in his face which he swatted away before saying, “Those weren’t normal insults were they?” 

She shook her head. 

“Tell me what you saw.” 

There was no fucking way she was telling Rowan about what she saw. 

“What were they?” Celaena said. Rowan rubbed his jaw and looked her dead in the eyes as she backed up a few feet. “I don’t know. There have been reports of people going insane because of the things they saw, but even I haven’t been able to figure out what they are. Even Maeve doesn’t know. But if you just tell me what you saw-”

“Do you want to know what happened?” Her voice was so so quiet and fragile, as even speaking about these things left her uneasy. She looked down at her phone screen. All color had left her face, and her sun freckles were stark against her moon white skin

“Whatever those things are, they make you relive your worst memories. Then there is this horrible moment when you can’t see the sunlight and everything is so dark and they close in and everything is loud and quiet at the same time. Is that enough fucking information for you? Do you need more as to mock me for my incompetence to take an insult?”

She stood up and curled her shoulders in to try to hide the vomit and piss on her uniform. Rowan made a sound of frustration but motioned for her to follow him. She managed to hide most of herself under a jacket and bag, but her face couldn’t be hidden. They walked in silence back to the dorms. Rowan walked her up to her rooms and handed her a uniform she hadn't seen him grab. “This is your new uniform. Try not to mess this one up too awfully. Laundry is done once a week, whenever you wish. Be in the kitchens tomorrow at dawn, and no later.” And then he was gone once again, leaving her still trembling infront of her door.

Celaena deposited the clean uniform on her bed, grabbed a robe and headed for the female bathrooms at the end of the hall. She turned the water on, stripped down out of her soiled clothes, and sat in the icy water until her skin had turned pruny and all memories that should have remained buried had left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard for me to write, just because of all the emotion involved, and the parallels that needed to come across. I finally settled on one I liked, so here you go!
> 
> Side note:  
> Y'all we hit 500 hits! Thank you so so much! It's nice to know that others enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing this. More chapters to come!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know its been a good while since I updated. But here is a sad, and slightly short filler chapter. I promise it'll pick up soon, but I needed to just get some of these moments out. I also promise that the next chapter will be longer, but enjoy!

Today had already been forfeited to hell and descended into absolute shit and it wasn’t even light outside yet. Celaena woke well before dawn, thanks to the kitchen duty she was still stuck with and took one look at the mirror above her dresser and decided that she was going to kill Rowan. She had a sizable lump on the back of her head that was not getting any better, and a black eye that absolutely was not helping her ever worsening mood. Cursing Rowan soundly, she braided her hair back to hide the lump and other scratches, grabbed her bag from the chair and was out the door. She kept the hood on her sweatshirt up most of the way down to the kitchens, keeping her eye and other injuries out of the prying eyes of faculty and students. But as she reached the kitchens, which were gloriously warm as usual, Celaena was forced to surrender her shield. Leaving the injuries on display.

Luca’s knife clattered to the floor and she heard rather than saw his jaw drop. Emrys looked up from where he was kneading a loaf of bread and his eyes were as wide as saucers. Apparently she had greatly underestimated how bad her face was. Dear lord" Emrys breathed. Celaena averted her gaze and walked to where Luca had been chopping onions. "It looks worse than it actually is." Lie. It felt like her head was splitting open. "I've got some salve-" Luca started to walk towards the stairs, but stopped. "It's fine. It's none of your business" She didn't know why she snapped at them, when they had done nothing, but she continued chopping and didn't offer an apology. "It is when you come into my kitchen." Emrys was now in front of her with Luca peeking over his shoulder. She looked up and wiped her nose, which was now running thanks to the onions. "Believe me, I've been through worse." She went back to her work. That was true. This was nothing compared to the beatings she used to get from Arobynn after losing or that time she and Sam robbed the coffers to pay off all the servants. Luca started to say," what do you mean you've been through worse?" But Emrys cut him off. "Let her run her own course." Celaena looked up at Luca who was now standing across from her. She shifted her shoulders and shrugged as to display the necklace of scars from the lady at the carnival. She looked him dead in the eye and allowed him to finish the thought. Life in America nowadays, life in America as a woman, the scar flecked fingers and why she was so important to their beloved headmistress. Luca paled and quickly went back to work. He continued his normal chatter, albeit more quietly this time. 

Celaena didn’t care.

She didn’t care about much anymore. 

Breakfast was finished and brought up. A few more people were introduced to her, but she quickly discarded their names and faces. Celaena sighed, and began scrubbing at a tray that had once held cinnamon buns. Someone let out a low whistle from behind her. “Now that is one of the most glorious black eyes I have ever seen” She turned to see a handsome man, around Emrys’ age. “I see Rowan doesn’t pull punches does he. And you clearly don’t know the meaning of a healing salve.” 

“You leave her be too Malakai.” Emrys shouted from the other side of the kitchen. Celaena shifted her gaze towards Malakai, but didn’t return his grin, which faded in return. “My husband works too hard as is. You don’t add to that burden, understand?”

Emrys let out a sigh of exasperation, but she simply shrugged. “I don’t want to bother with any of you.” Truth.

She looked up and saw that Malakai had caught the unspoken message in her words -  _ so don’t try to bother with me _ \- and gave her a tight smile in response.

She lowered her head and went back to the miserable task of washing dishes. Emrys and Malakai exchanged a few words, and the latter seemed to give in to something. 

Emrys dried his hands on a towel, long after Malakai had left and sat down on the counter next to her. His voice was soft as he said, “He doesn’t mean any harm, Elentiya.” That name should have sent a wave of emotions through her, but nothing came. “It’s just, you’re a stranger, from America. And you came in the middle of the year, and you’re hosted by…. None of us really understand.”

Celaena made herself meet his gaze and offer what she hoped came off as an understanding grin. “I don’t care.” 

And that was the truth, however sad it was. 

Classes were particularly miserable that day partially because her makeup skills weren’t the best, and because Rowan asked her repeatedly whether she was going to hurl or piss herself again. He dragged her around the outskirts of Paris pointing out various things and prodding her about her past. She knew he was trying to rile her, but it stopped working. Celaena simply pulled a pair of headphones out of her bag and over her ears and drowned out the world. 

That earned another one of Rowan’s glares. 

That then started an argument that lasted for a solid hout about whether or not that counted as mastering herself, to which Celaena responded, “I didn’t throw a tantrum, as you call it. That counts.” Rowan simply snarled that she couldn’t run forever and that whatever CEO's she as going to have to deal with wouldn't allow her to pull out headphones and ignore them. They walked in silence on the way back to the compound as the skies turned gray with the setting sun and and the clouds threatened to rain. Rowan ditched her on her floor, not even bothering to walk her to her room as he did the previous days. 

It unnerved her that the absence of such a simple action stung more than it should have.

Celaena returned to her room after yet another cold shower to find the uniform from the day before sitting before her door. She picked it up, made a mental note to find the invisible helpers because there was no way Rowan would have washed her clothes, and collapsed on her bed. The best thing for her ever worsening mood would have been to find food and ice for her face, but Celaena opted to skip dinner again. She would eat in the morning. She was certainly in no mood to explain or come up with another excuse for why she was so beaten up.

Celaena pulled her headphones on, set one of her more depressing playlists into action and stared at the ceiling. If only Dorian or Chaol could see her now: lying in a sad dorm room in Paris of all places, listening to _Elastic Heart_ by Sia. She supposed the song was fitting to her current situation. A hopeless world that had come so close to breaking her, but had failed. 

But if she was going to snap and break, Rowan seemed like the kind of person to do it and enjoy it. 

A thankfully dreamless sleep claimed her soon after.


	10. Chapter 10

A week passed.

Then 2. Still, not much progress.

Celaena woke every day before the crack of dawn and scampered down to the kitchen. Chopping and slicing and dicing onions and potatoes became second nature. So did the silence that followed. Yes, she knew most that passed her by. No, they no longer stopped to chat. Yes, she felt guilty about not trying to make more friends.

And yes, the miserable training with Rowan persisted.

Celaena left his “training” every day feeling worse than she had previously. She had endured torture that had been less harrowing and impactful. Since Rowan realized that getting her to keep her head wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped, she often spent the days doing ridiculous tasks such as memorizing all of the companies that could prove a threat to her family estate (there were 42 of them), chopping wood for hours (even though almost of it was used), and running.

So much running.

Running up and down the stairs, running through the winding streets, running back to campus with wood on her back. Celaena had thought of herself to be in relatively good shape; she had run at least 5 miles every morning with Chaol to keep fit. But running through the clean and tight grounds of Dorian’s estate wasn’t the same as the high-altitude at the base of the mountain Rowan dragged her too most afternoons. She had begged him to stop halfway there because she kept doubling over to keep from passing out. Rowan was unfazed by her pain and everything apparently. He walked by gruesome street rumbles that had her emptying the contents of her stomach nearby without a shift of his harsh face.

On one particular day when Rowan had again made her feel like absolute shit, she was itching for a fight. Her limbs were numb and she kept jumping back and forth to keep from screaming with energy. No, she couldn’t punch Rowan, even if she wanted to. She’d be dead. But she could completely bash someone else.

A coy smile crept across her face as the satisfying smack of an uppercut on someone’s jaw entered her mind. Celaena dumped her bag in her dorm and slipped out into the cool Paris night to see what the city had to offer her.

The next morning, Celaena awoke with her brain a little less hazy than before and slipped out of her dorm room and walked down to the kitchen. A pair of footsteps approached from behind her and she didn’t have to look up to see that Rowan Whitethorn was strolling up beside her with the same expression he always wore. He kept looking at her every 2 seconds, like she was some strange mutant creature he had never seen before. She was American, maybe that had something to do with the fact that he despised her. Although to be fair, she did despise him as well. Maybe she could have been more kind, but there was no going back because Rowan kept staring at her strangely. Well she certainly wasn’t going to ask why. Getting beat up at 5 in the morning wasn’t exactly on her Top 10 Things To Do In Europe list. Rowan saved himself from a few choice words by breaking the silence.

“You smell like blood.”

“I know.”

“Care to explain?” Not to this bastard.

“I smell like blood, and I will for the next few days which gives me the divine options of either smelling like blood, as you so kindly pointed out, or smelling like an obscene amount of jasmine. Your pick, you buzzard.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Buzzard. Y’know, like the birds that circle high in the sky searching and feeding on corp-“

“I know what a buzzard is smart-ass. I suppose a more relevant question would have been, why did you call me that?”

“Because you picked up the fact that there may be blood somewhere near me. Immediately. Like you’re searching for carrion or something.”

Rowan harrumphed and made a small sound exasperation. Then turned the brightest shade of red possible for someone to turn without being a tomato. “Do- d-do,” Celaena had never seen him so flustered. This was prime entertainment. “you need supplies?”

Ohh. He thought her cycle had made an appearance. While that wasn’t the reason she had blood on her, screwing with him was quite enjoyable. And she was certainly going to make this last. Celaena turned and looked him dead in the eye, which was quite hard considering that she was a great deal shorter.

“I do, in fact, need an amount of things. So just guide me in that general direction and I will be back from the store soon.”

He glared in her direction and said, “You’re not going anywhere. You have morning kitchen duty to attend to.”

So he was going to play that card. She batted her eyelashes far more than any person should ever need to and said sweetly, “Or I suppose I could give you my list of supplies, as you put it. Yes that seems very do-able. Although I do have a preference for certain things. I just don’t want any products up and in-” He cut her off before she could finish.

“Alright, go get whatever the hell you need. Just be back before first period. I’ll tell Emrys that you had an appointment.”

Celaena cooed her thanks and stalked out of the dorms and down the street to the closest pharmacy. She smiled to herself as she made a mental list of supplies she would actually need. So hand wraps, laundry detergent, bleach, general bandages and a mouthguard. All now necessary items now that she had found her anger release system in Paris.

The fighting rings.

Celaena was familiar with the ones back home; she had built up quite a name for herself in the entire underground fighting rings. But the one she had strolled into last night was a different breed. Hidden under a normal gym, this den was amazing. She had been denied entrance to the secret rooms she had known lurked beneath the posh surface. But one show of her with her uncle and a matching Guild card to follow and she was granted full access.

Celaena had spent her life in many training gyms ever since Arrobyn had plucked her from the river and deposited her in a killing ring instead. He had taught everything about how to kill, how to hurt, how to maim, and how to make men scream and plead while she did it. She knew everything about everything from hand-to-hand to sniper rifle shots. She knew everything about swordplay and shooting arrows.

She also knew that she didn’t need weapons to kill someone.

Example A: Chaol’s face.

Celaena hoped the slashes had scarred. Chaol really thought he could get rid of her that easily. News flash buddy: She could have killed him a million times. But she didn’t.

And getting bloodstains out of shirts wasn’t as easy as he thought it was.

Celaena sighed. She could almost see him there, sobbing on the floor of his dorm room trying to get his blood out of his fine and tidy uniform.

Damn she hoped the slash on his face scarred.

He definitely deserved the reminder of all she had done for and to him. The thought of Chaol trying to get rid of her was the fuel she needed to kick some major ass.

So Celaena slipped in black contacts, tugged on an all black leggings and a matching sweater, braided her hair back, and flicked up her black hood and mask. She didn’t need word of her fighting getting back to her acquaintances back home. Celaena strolled up to the ringmaster and let all the warmth drain out of her face.

“Name.” The guy looked up when she didn’t respond. He looked her up and down before sighing and writing “Assassin” on the board.

Oh she liked him.

He was smart enough to recognize a trained fight when she saw one. Celaena hopped into the ring and hoped her opponent was at least half as smart as the guy above.

Spoiler alert: He wasn’t.

And thought it wasn’t a hard fight, dear lord it felt good to hear the satisfying smack of an uppercut followed by the knockout bell. Celaena faced opponent after opponent and felt a small part of her resurface as her name climbed higher and higher on the standing board. She didn’t leave her new found hangout until she was number one.

By a great margin.

Celaena stumbled home after many promises to Gavriel, the ringmaster, that she would be back and soon. Her dreams were filled with the clanging of the victory bell and the coppery smell of her opponent's blood up in her nose.

And maybe it made her a monster, but some part of her found it comforting that she was still herself in this regard, even after all she had been through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! We! Hit! 1000! Hits! YAY!   
> I cannot tell you how much this means to me. Thanks for all the kudos and comments.
> 
> lots of love <3


	11. Chapter 11

The smell. Oh god, she was going to be sick. The smell of rotting flesh and other disgusting entities lined the streets of the alley. She stumbled and bit back in disgust as the arm moved and reached for her ankle. Keep going, keep going, keep going. Celaena checked her shoulder only to find that her chaser was no longer behind her. She sighed in content, despite her current settings. She slowed her pace to a walk, and was so pleased that she wasn’t being chased that she didn’t notice until she ran straight into a solid object. 

Shit.

Of fucking course. 

She hadn’t lost him, he had simply gotten in front of her. Celaena didn’t have any time to mutter a plea before her hands and ankles were bound, her mouth was gagged and the man began to drag her by her hair into a waiting car. Someone stuck a needle into her neck, and she saw nothing more.

Celaena woke up to a pounding in her head, and throbbing limbs that were tied to a post. Great. A quick glance around told her there was no need to try to escape, but yet she fought against the irons on her ankles and wrists. Another inspection of her restraints pointed out that these were designed with her in mind, and not tricks would get her free. Still, she fought and fought, hoping to get free. Celaena tugged at the chains, hit them against the wall and tried everything she knew to get free but just couldn’t. She relented, after noticing her hands had been cut open on the chains, and there were welts forming around her wrists and ankles from the exposure to iron. She was partially allergic to it, as one might be to latex which made getting captured that much more wonderful. Only one person knew her allergies, just as that one person knew every single thing about her. Probably more than she did herself. 

The door across the room slammed open and 3 large figures walked in, the two largest flanking one in the middle. Celaena hung her head forward, closed her eyes and softened her limbs anticipating the coming blow. She’d had plenty of practice with it. She waited, muscles loose, and body relaxed, but the blow never came. A gloved hand lifted her chin up, and she kept her eyes focused on the floor, not wanting to look her captor in the eye. He held her chin more firmly between his index finger and thumb, and jerked upward, so they were eyelevel. He nudged her one more time, and she raised her eyes until they were locked with those of her nightmares. Silver eyes, paired with the red hair of a cunning fox. The perfect portrait of a trickster. 

Arobynn Hamel, her darling uncle. And the man she feared more than anything in the world.

“Now you wouldn’t be trying to run away, would you?”, he said, voice laced with sarcasm. She averted her gaze. “You know what happens when you do that, don’t you.” She refused to meet his eyes. 

He threw her head aside in one violent motion and roared in her ear, “ANSWER ME!” 

Celaena felt her lip quivering and bit it as she looked up and said, “Yes.”

Arobynn smiled, but it wasn’t really a smile. “Good. Then you know what comes now.”

She did, and he knew she did. So there was no need for a verbal response because the relaxed muscles and defeated posture said it all. He rose from his stance across from her and motioned towards the heavy wooden door. It instantly opened and a person entered. She didn’t need to look up to know who or what they were carrying. Celaena closed her eyes as her shirt was torn off, her hair tied up, and her back fully exposed. She didn’t open them as she was lowered onto the floor, as the tarps were put down, and as the other man left her alone with the man of her nightmares. She didn’t even scream the first time the whip struck her back. Or the next, or the next. But once he went on for longer than before, she started screaming and screaming and screaming until he was finished and she was left to bleed on the floor until there was nothing left.

Celaena lurched upwards as the sweat on her back reminded her of the all too often blood down it. A wave of nausea accompanied those thoughts and she ran to the bathroom to empty her stomach in the toilet. She checked the clock. It was 2 in the morning, and she was in her Paris dorm room, not the basement. She was an ocean away and he couldn’t get her here. Celaena slowly trudged back to her room and spent the rest of the morning wide awake in 5 sweaters for fear of closing her eyes and being exposed and bare all over again. 

When Rowan finally knocked on her door after what seemed like eons, she was very quiet on the way down to the kitchens. She gave everyone a half-hearted smile, and quickly ate her breakfast before running off to her first class. 

Fenrys took one look at her and winced. “How’d you sleep last night?” Celaena rolled her eyes and said, “Very little.” He laughed, and she felt her mood instantly lift as he picked up their previous conversation and walked down to math. Rowan following behind, Celaena made her way to the back of the class, as always before setting down her bag and grabbing the necessary notebooks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rowan doing the same, but with much less precision than usual. A quick glance and she saw that he had dark circles under his eyes and messy hair. A deviation from mister perfect. There wasn’t much time to wonder what exactly he had been up to before class started, and she was swept away from him into a discussion. She let Fenrys drag her to lunch with his twin, who was a lot quieter, then to a museum nearby. She should have been studying, but she was grateful for the distraction from the past night’s events. And for a break from Rowan, who seemed to have needed one from her too. 

But as the day turned into night, and the sun disappeared from the sky she felt the absence of the brooding, mass of muscle from her side. And it worried her.


	12. Chapter 12

“Head up, shoulders back, eyes forward. Smile. Oh come on, give me something. Aelin. Aelin. Smile.”

Celaena was this close to smacking Rowan Whitethorn across the face. That would give her something to smile about. Then he would probably make her run extra laps through the winding streets, and get up to pull double kitchen duty. If it was any other man besides him, like Chaol, she would have simply given him a vulgar gesture and gone back to sleep. But he was the only thing keeping her from being booted back to the U.S. and keeping her grades up.Not to mention the fact that she could out run and fight Dorian and Chaos, but the first time she tried with Rowan he had her pinned in an instant. They were in a secluded field, so the one-sided wrestling match went unnoticed. Rowan, as usual, had dragged her out after school as he had done for the past 6 weeks to go train. She still had no clue what this had to do with the massive inheritance she had yet to come into, since she spent most afternoons covered in mud or mentally covered in dirt. When they weren’t cursing each other in circles in the study hall because Celaena didn’t see the point of memorizing every single person who could be considered her equivalent (Rowan insisted it was necessary to know your enemies, Celaena pointed out no one was equal to her. That earned a 3 AM wake up) it was running miles and miles across the French countryside. Because Rowan played hockey and he had nothing better to do than take her on his training runs. At first it appeared he was trying to humiliate her, but she kept up to his utter disappointment. Now, as she stared back into the face of the man she loathed so very much, the idea of that punishment run was sounding easier and easier. His training had grown less and less fierce, maybe that was her mental strength, but she could have sworn he was easing up. Probably not. She was definitely hallucinating from lack of sleep.

Rowan motions for her to relax, as forces on a smile that has been perfected all these years. Hiding behind a facade was something she was remarkably good at. Probably from all those years of being trapped in the concrete cellar, Arrobyn's dogs holding her as he was in her face. She learned very quickly that the less you showed, the harder he hit you. And even though it hurt more, it was over quicker. She peered over her shoulder to look at Rowan and his hand was raised just over his head and it was coming down. She flinched away, and fell back, terror surely shining in her eyes. 

"Aelin? Are you okay?" Rowan sounded genuinely concerned for once and she would have laughed at it, and certainly made fun of him if her heart wasn't racing out of her chest and adrenaline was coursing through her body fast she thought she might explode. She took in a shaky breath and blinked a few times to remove the image of Arobynn, belt in hand standing behind her in the exact same position Rowan just was.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just tripped over a stupid rock. Are we done for today? Because I have a chemistry test tomorrow and had a study date with Fen. We're meeting at the library in 3 hours and I have to catch up on an essay for psych."

"Yeah, yeah we're done. Not as awful as usual today."

From Rowan, that was high praise. Celaena smiled internally with that.

"Just so you know, there's going to be a party tomorrow night and you and I are going to be there."

"You want me. At a party. With you."

"Not like that dumbass. People get very drunk, insult one another, start fights and I want to see you keep your head and not lose it. You can't get drunk, high or anything like that. And yes I know what reputation you left behind."

“Well I see you did your research. Jokes on you I don’t need drugs or alcohol to have a good time, although they do help. My killer personality is enough.”

“Yeah, killer.”

Celaena rolled her eyes as she pulled her jacket out of her bag for the walk back to the dorms.

“See you bright and early tomorrow.”

Rowan grabbed her arm.

“Wait, Fenrys invited me to come since neither of you can drive.”

“Are you kidding me? I need to have a few words with that boy. We could’ve just walked.”

“I didn’t want to come either, but he begged me and I owe him a favor.”

She uncrossed her arms, and shifted her stance to a more comfortable position. This was a story she wanted to hear. Most of Rowan’s tales were boring, and self-centered but one that ended with a favor owed to Fenrys? That was interesting. 

“Oh really? How did you screw up so badly that Fenrys Moonbeam was your only hope of survival?”

Rowan lowered his head, and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uneasy by this conversation.

“So about a year ago, I got so drunk, just wasted, like I was spilling secrets and incriminating myself and Fenrys had the good sense to drag me away from that party before I got myself expelled from school. Yeah he covered for me for the next week, saying everything I said was a dare, and none of it was true. That night was so out of character, that everyone believed it.”

Celaena had a hard time holding back her laughter. Rowan glared at her as she let it out and was rolling on the ground.

“Alright that’s enough. Aelin. Come on now.”

“You-” She wheezed in between words. “-just told me not to get drunk, then followed it up with a story about you getting wasted. How the hell am I supposed to take you seriously now?”

Rowan let a little smile sneak on his face.

“I didn’t want to tell you for this exact reason. Get your laughter out now, come on. I’m trusting you with this okay?”

She continued laughing and took a few breaths to steady herself.

“Okay, you have my word. Besides, who would I tell? My only friend already knows.”

Rowan was inclined to agree, and she could sense that her statement hit a little deeper for him. Who was she kidding, the person in front of her was about as deep as the shallow end of a pool. And that was being generous. 

She pulled her jacket back on, and shouldered her bag. 

“Well, I’ll see you later tonight then. And I promise to not get drunk tomorrow. Only if you don’t.”

“Please stop. And yeah, I’ll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD! I am very aware that it has been quite sometime since I last posted, and I am very sorry about that. Went through some stuff, started 4 other fics, but I'm happy to say that this will be continued. Here's a filler chapter that I threw in for some laughs before we get to the dark stuff. More dark stuff to come so cherish the fun for now. Sorry in advance for the new trauma I'm bringing in. If you have any suggestions, or want any specific chapters from HoF written in, just let me know in the comments. Thank you for sticking with me and I should be back to posting more regularly. 
> 
> *Side note: If you like criminal minds, and are older than the age of 12, go read my fic all the right things. That was the impulsive 3am fic I started because I'm so lonely and writing Rowaelin stuff just makes me sadder.


	13. Chapter 13

Celaena Sardothien peered into the mirror, then jumped back as a loud banging on the door drew her from her trance. She glanced in the mirror once more, before grabbing a light sweater and throwing it over her shoulders. It wasn’t a particularly cold night, and the days were getting warmer as the promise of spring emerged. But it was the reflection in her mirror that made her through a jacket on. The girl that stared back at her wasn't the one who ran for prom queen and won, or the one that was the cross country captain for 3 straight years. It was a shell, the one that people recoiled from. Her golden hair had lost its luster, her face was angular and her eyes were empty. It was her shoulders that seemed to stick too far out and the fact that if you looked hard enough, you could count her ribs. It was the sleepless nights and stressful days that she hid behind makeup and fake smiles and caffeine that were prominent now. She could fool everyone, but herself and her reflection showed that. If a jacket could cover that up just a little bit, then it didn't matter that it was a warm night. The door was pounded on once again, and she opened it to reveal her very annoying host. He peered at her with the piercing green eyes, and rolled them as she pulled on a pair of white converse. 

Door shut, they walked out and down the long hall that she had become very accustomed to. It was harwood, and she had become accustomed to the knock of her shoes on the floors. She had long since given up trying to quiet it, but had found a way to muffle her footsteps at least. Some days the pounding was the only thing that kept her anchored. She headed for the exit staircase, the one that led theme outside. But he took the path down to the kitchen instead of the regular stairwell. Well, Rowan did. He told her to stay there before running down the stair and emerging 5 minutes later. In that time, she pulled out her phone to check up on her life back home. She scrolled through instagram, not liking anything but memorizing the false expressions on her former friend's faces. Dorian had a new girlfriend, and what looked like either a hickey or a chip on his neck. A quick search of the girl's page showed she was of exactly the right background that the Havillard family prefered. Rich and submissive. She was probably a nice girl, but empty. That's how the Havillard's liked them. Not Dorian of course, but how the family liked them. Empty shells ready to be filled with old timey bullshit. More hockey pictures from Chaol, with him and Dorian all sweaty as the team posed for a picture after a game. Comments thirsting over them, and ones wondering why she wasn't there. More comments asking where she went. Nobody responded to any of them. She shut off her phone as she heard Rowan's footsteps come up the stairwell and shoved it into her pocket. She looked at him, as he stared at her and took a shaky breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. Come on. Let's go."

And just like that the emotion and change was gone. Replaced by the icy facade she knew all too well. 

Rowan Whitethorn walked in silence next to her, contemplating what Emrys had just told him. He had run down to tell him that they would be absent from dinner and had instead received a reprimand. He walked down the stairs, wrote the reason on the sign out sheet, and went to walk back upstairs. Emrys was there, sitting on the counter before he could leave.

"Rowan."

"Hello Emrys, I didn't see you there. I was just noting that you'll have two less helpers for dinner tonight."

"Ahh, going to that party, are we?"

"Yes, we are. I'm taking her," he said, gesturing to where she stood, but couldn't hear him, "to instill more control of her emotions."

Emrys cleared his throat before standing up off the counter and taking a seat on one of the many worn wooden chairs. His hands were scarred with many oil burns and knife nicks.

"Rowan, watch out for her tonight."

"I will, sir. I told her before that no alcohol or drugs are to be consumed tonight."

Emrys shook his head slightly. He took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words.

"Not like that. She's in an odd place right now. Certainly not in a good place. Whatever you're doing to her those afternoons, it's killing the light in her eyes. And you dragging her in and out everyday is just shoving her down even further when she so desperately needs someone to pull her up. Please, don't let her go any further."

"I-I didn't mean to hurt her, sir."

"I know you didn't. But I know Maeve and I know you. I know you have your orders, but please, she's a child. Did you really think I wouldn't recognize Evalin Ashryver's daughter? She looks like her mother when she was on scullery duty in these very kitchens."

Rowan stiffened at the mention of Maeve as the memory of his duty and job came back.

"Maeve put me on her because she thinks I know what is best for her. And if she can't take it, so be it. I'm not here to hold her hand and make it pleasant."

He saw Emrys' eyes widen a bit as disappointment filled his posture as he turned and walked up the steps to where he saw her shut off her phone and stuff it in her jean pocket. He took a look at her, a good look at her. And saw a little of what Emrys had seen. He had dismissed most as her stubbornness and that was the excuse he gave his mind now. But deep down he knew that something was off, and something was missing.

They walked in silence as they exited the building, her hands already feeling shaky as the thought of keeping her mind in a large crowd of people. The last party she had been to had ended in her best friend's rape and murder, so she wasn't particularly excited about this one. But it was a party nonetheless, and she could finally have some fun. All that was off the table now that she was here to learn how to control her emotions. Please, she had so many walls around her that prisons copied the layouts. A party was supposed to be a way for the hardworking students to relax, and take a break. But Rowan had to make it into a training exercise.

They boarded the bus that took them out of Paris and into the surrounding countryside. The crowd dispersed as they reached their destination. Celaena even got a seat for once. Rowan sat beside her on the blue cushions. She normally would be skeptical of bus seats, but they seemed a lot cleaner then the ones she was used to back home. Of course, when she was dating Dorian, they never went near public transportation. He would drive them to school and the dates they went on, and would send for a chauffeur when he didn't want to drive. Dorian was sweet, and slightly clueless. Of course, he knew the effect he had on the girls and boys in their grade, but he was so oblivious of how rich he was. Celaena was a girl of luxury, but her "work" often led her to the worst parts of the city. Arrobynn had dumped her there a few times when she was younger and would complain about anything. He may have been a sadistic bastard, but he knew how to show her just how much she had. But that didn't stop her from getting her own apartment and moving the hell out of his house. See, Celaena knew she had money. Dorian knew he did, but was painfully unaware of how much he had compared to some of those she met. Besides, they were better as friends then lovers. She knew that his father disapproved of their relationship, and always rolled her eyes when that was brought up. If only he would think back a little further, and he would have practically handcuffed her to Dorian if he made the connection. Dorian didn't give a shit when she broke up with him. He was a bit heartbroken, given it was the first time he had been broken up with, but had a new girl within the month. Chaol, well he was much different. He was Dorian's right hand man, his best friend. They were close, and always had been. He was more subdued, and certainly had less money. They spent most of the time running, or exercising. Celaena knew most of the girls in her school hated her for the fact that she dumped Dorian, but the girls talking shit had about as much personality as a sewer rat. Always flocking around, smiles too big as they waved their pom poms in the team's face after a game. Celaena missed having the boys look up at her during a game, or after they scored a goal. Dorian tried to get her to play hockey with him one day, and she refused. Chaol swore skating was good for building running balance and swearing it was harder than it looked. Until she brought out the old skates and reminded them of the various hobbies over the years. One thing about Arrobynn was that he wanted them to be well versed in all fields. She could dance, ice skate, and of course play the piano. Piano was her favorite and ice skating a close second. It was higher then dance, not because she enjoyed it, but because her skates were essentially knife shoes. Chaol never made her skate with him again after she told him about the knife part. Although weapon shoes were fun, she muhc preferred running. Cross country and track, whatever. She just enjoyed pushing her muscles to the point where it felt like they were about to snap. The high that followed a race was unreachable without knowing what it was like without it. 

But lately, even running had become a burden. 

She recognized the field they ended up in as the one where she and Rowan often started their runs. There was a large group of teenagers under a pavilion off to the edge of the field, that they had never explored. She saw Rowan glance at her sideways as she tripped over the curb and almost fell into the grass. She steadied herself as they walked over to the kids, brushing the images of Nehemia's mutilated body on the bed and the look on Chaol's face as she shoved the knife deep into Archer Finn's black heart. At least that was what she wanted to do to him. 

They reached the people. There were around 70, ranging in ages, heights, hair colors and everything. Rowan turned to her, grabbing her before she could run in. Honestly, it was more likely for her to run away. 

"Remember why we're here."

She rolled her eyes, and brushed his hand off, shaking at the touch. Fenrys spotted har and immediately dragged her into the crowd as those she recognized as the rest of the hockey team stole Rowan away. He handed her a shot which she gladly took before reminding him that she wasn't allowed to drink. He handed her another one, then a can of diet pepsi which she took from him. She could feel the alcohol sitting in her stomach as she drained that can, and then another as Fenrys took her from group to group, introducing her. She didn't bother trying to put names with faces, these kids were just another obstacle in her need to return home. Not home, but back to the states. Even after living in New York for 10 years, it still didn't feel like her home, the one she had left so long ago. She hadn't left it, she was stolen from it. Stolen away, and dragged into this world. She wasn't sure if this one was better than the one she was stolen from. 

Her stomach now full of pepsi, Celaena grabbed a cup and filled it to the brim with punch. She grimaced at the sweetness of it. This punch was probably the sweet equivalent of the strongest vodka. Celaena followed Fenrys from group to group, and allowed herself to relax more and more with each passing second. She found that a forced smile soon turned into a real one and that Fen was determined to get her to cheer up. She heard herself laugh quietly at one of his awful jokes, and saw him grin at her. She smiled back, rolling her eyes as he downed another shot. He opened his arms and practically tackled her into a hug, which she pretended to hate but secretly loved. He held on for a little too long and she sokced him in the arm. Another boy approached them, and she found herself staring at him. He must have seen her visual confusion, because he extended a hand to her.

"Connall. I see you've met my less intelligent half."

"Hey!"

"Celaena. And Fen, don't try to deny it, I have you on video flirting with a pole because of how drunk you were."

"In my defence Ce, that was a very good looking pole. And I thought you weren't going to tell anyone about that!"

"You really should choose your bets better then."

"Ahh, I do seem to recall that it was me behind the camera Fenrys. Celaena, was it the one downtown?"

"Yes! The pole with the stripes?"

"Yeah, that's the shortened version of what went on. My brother puts full effort into everything he does. Except for school and thinking things through."

He threw a sideways glance at his twin, and Fenrys stuck his tongue out at him.

"I hate the both of you."

"Oooh, that's not what you were saying last night."

"Celaena! I thought we agreed to keep that between us."

She laughed, happy that Fenrys had matched her energy. It was nice to be talking to someone who kept the conversation going, no matter how odd. Connall rolled his eyes, but winked at her.

"You know, my brother and I aren't the same in those ways if you know what I mean. Call me."

He walked off to join the hockey team, and Celaena and Fenrys burst out laughing. Gut busting, real laughs. They were laughing so loud that Connall came back and started laughing before he got halfway to the group.

"That-" Fenrys panted in between breaths, "was possibly the best joke you've ever told. ANd the first sex joke I've heard."

"It felt weird. Was it convincing?"

Celaena shook her head.

"Not at all. You turned red the second you winked at me. Good try."

"Damnit. Really thought I had that down."

She laughed again and was jolted forward as someone ran into her from behind, momentarily throwing her off balance. She turned around to confront them, but they had since walked off. She turned back to the twins who had since composed themselves. Celaena shrugged, and took another sip of her too sweet punch, which seemed to be even more pungent now. They waved goodbye to Connall who went to go join his team for real this time and continued their rounds amongst the partygoers. Fenrys led them to a bench near the food table, just so he could snag a few nachos. He offered her some, which she denied. He scarfed down enough nachos to feed the hockey team before pulling onto the floor to dance.

"Fen, I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, come on! Loosen up! Your cranky chaperone is watching us, and besides, you haven't broken any rules of his so far."

"I think I broke the number 1 rule the second I started laughing."

"Well, then time to break all of them. Just dance with me!"

He started doing a ridiculously extravagant version of the macarena as the beat started blaring through the various pavilion speakers. She stood off to the side, a frown on her face until she couldn't hold the grim look any longer. That might have been due to the Fenrys shaking his ass in her face. She smacked the back of his head, and he moved over to give her room. She missed dancing. Not the highly structured ballet she took as an elective at school, but the dancing at parties. She missed the wild, lavish and extravagant parties Dorian had thrown every year for the past 5 years. He always forced her to go as his date, whether they were dating or not. He said she was the only one who could handle that spotlight. Of course, he had no clue she was raised to be in the very spotlight he was in. It was just habit. Similar to the habit she found herself back in now, hips moving and hair flying as she sang into a fake microphone to "The Sweet Escape" by Gwen Stefani. It was liberating, this sense of freedom. And for once, it was attainable without drugs and alcohol. Sure, it was hard as hell to maintain that elation, but it was so worth it. 

She felt the moment something shifted. The lyrics no longer sounded right, and her body got hot all over. Her vision began to blur, and started to feel as if her feet were made of lead. She tried to tell Fenrys that she was going to go sit down, to just get water. He looked at her, and she wasn't sure what to make of his face. He grabbed her arm, and started moving her out of the crowd. She could hear the music, and saw Rowan running over. Great. He was going to tell her she failed. Maybe someone insulted her and she didn't know. That tended to happen from time to time. She just lost sight of everything when something hit home. But he was kneeling in front of her, shaking her trying to get her to look at him. Trying to get her to come back. But she knew she was far off the edge, whatever edge it was. His massive hands were on her shoulders, trying to keep her upright, and he cursed as he made contact with her skin. She vaguely heard him telling Fenrys to call 911. That was ridiculous. She was just a tad overworked and heated. That's right kids, dehydration was the root of this problem. Stay hydrated. She could see Fenrys cover the phone, and gesture out towards the road. Rowan nodded, and scooped her up in his arms. He stood with ease, and she didn't know if he registered that she was even there. His arms felt like fire, and she kicked and fought to get free. She didn't need to be carried anywhere. Her blood felt like it was boiling and it was so so so so so hot. On second thought maybe something was wrong. There was the almost faint sound of a siren, and she saw a pair of pine green eyes looking down at her with real concern. The siren got louder, and she looked into the green green of his eyes as he stared back. She knew Fenrys was running ahead, to the loud sound of the siren. She tried to cover her ears with her hands, but her arms wouldn't move. And suddenly, it was all too much. She registered the fact that Rowan was carrying her, and that she was very exposed. Her jacket had been torn off, so she was just in the tank top and shorts she had slapped on earlier. Too much skin was showing, and too much of it was in contact with another person. Too much contact, and it was way too loud. Celaena tried to shrink back into herself as it got too loud to handle. She saw green and silver as her senses were overwhelmed and all she could remember were those pine green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there dear people. i re-wrote this several times, so enjoy this 3k+ chapter which is much longer then I usually do. um, stay tuned for more? :)


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